When the Rain Falls
by Evie Brave
Summary: Post DH. Hermione loses everything save for something precious. SS/HG. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.**

 **~xXx~**

 _Revolting._

That was the choice adjective Molly Weasley would have called this ridiculous behavior as Hermione poured herself another tall glass of Firewhiskey.

 _Absolutely revolting._

Hand trembling, she took a tiny sip, wincing at the brief burning sensation the alcohol provided for the back of her throat. She could only imagine how furious Harry would be if he caught, let alone knew, how she was acting this very moment – partially naked in nothing but shorts and a bra while sitting on her bed, with nothing but strong liquor for company. Emotional as her friend was, Hermione was sure he'd give her a good verbal thrashing.

Well, Harry Potter could go screw himself if that was the case.

Because who the hell was he to rage at a grieving widow?

Throat tightening, she took another sip, the fateful scene of Ron's coffin lowering into the moist earth replaying itself over and over as she tried to calm her racing mind down.

A sharp knock echoed within the stilled silence.

Expelling a sigh, Hermione stood up and, rather clumsily, guided her way out of the room and into the small living room attached to her even smaller kitchen. A small lamp providing her only source of light as she peered through the peephole, immediately recognizing the "asshole" that already irritated her just by knocking on her flat's front door.

"Oh, shite." cursed Hermione quietly.

The knocking became more persistent, as if the person on the either side could sense her annoyance.

Rolling her eyes, she unlocked the door, yanking it open. "What do you want?"

Even her own voice sounded unnatural to herself, and that terrified Hermione.

Scowling down at the insolent witch, Severus Snape gently pushed her aside as he crossed the threshold. "What do I want?" he whispered fiercely as he whirled around to face her, his dark eyes boring into her own light ones. "What do I _want?"_

He slammed the door shut, so powerfully that it almost rattled the doorknob off its position, and snatched the bottle out of her grasp. Eyes wide, Hermione gasped as he violently flung the bottle across the room, shattering it against the white wall which a couple portraits occupied.

Paralyzed to the core, she watched as he also made quick work of the cup she'd been holding with her other hand, pouring the rest of its contents into the sink. His penetrating gaze daring her to stop him.

She knew better than to try.

Once finished with his task, Severus grasped the witch by her slender shoulders and pushed her to the couch, where she sat obediently. "What I want…," he began in a hoarse voice as he crouched down in front of her. "Is for you to get ahold of yourself. This has to stop, Hermione. Mourn if you must, but not like this. _Never like this_. It isn't safe for… "

He pressed the palm of his hand against her abdomen, caressing the swollen muscle that housed the precious life from within.

She was eight months pregnant. And drinking.

 _Revolting!_

"I know." whispered the heartbroken witch, not even attempting to wipe away the silent tears that fell from her eyes. She covered his hand with her own. "I know."

"He's gone. Nothing will change that."

Hermione couldn't hold it in anymore as she sobbed uncontrollably, not even trying to resist the strong hands that pulled her in and held her close as she slid into his lap, taking comfort in the arms of the Potions Master.

"I'm not going anywhere, love." She could feel the tendrils of magic ensconcing the both of them, signifying his oath as he spoke the whispered words against the top of her head. "I'm right here."

"I miss him so much, Severus." She felt his arms tighten around her as she clung to him fiercely. "So much…"

"I know, love, I know."

"What am I going to do?" she sniffed. "I've no money, no job – whatever tiny amount of fortune Ronald left me won't be enough to cover the rent and loans… Oh, Severus!" Biting back another sob, she buried her face into his chest.

"There is another solution, Hermione. One that you are most likely to disagree with. But if you trust me – put your faith in me… I can assure you a financial security."

"But how, Severus? It's all so much… And I don't want your money." Her voice became hurt with humiliation at the thought of having to borrow from him.

"What I'm about to propose isn't a charity offer, Hermione. In the end, it is ultimately what I'll get from you that will make all the difference."

"What could I possibly give you that is so valuable, Severus?"

"Your hand in marriage."

 **~xXx~**

Severus Snape was in love with Hermione Weasley. Had been for quite some time now.

It all began after the fall of Voldemort's second-age tyranny that he'd found it impossibly harder to ignore the fact that this brilliant girl was no longer a child, but a woman. And a beautiful one at that. Capable of facing danger and escaping death with a sharp mind and quick thinking, she deserved it all. To Snape, there was no finer heroine who fearlessly ran against the chaos of war than that of Hermione Granger.

And yet she denied what she rightfully deserved, formally telling the Ministry that all she wanted was peace and rest, not gold and glory.

He had been recovering in the hospital wing when he'd read the front page story, amazed beyond words that the little know-it-all chit would deny the highest prestige only bestowed upon seasoned wizards or witches. Even more amazing was the fact that she appeared at his bedside almost every day, insisting that she was only here to help the Madam Pomphrey with the wounded, yet voicing a list of questions that she so desperately wanted answering to.

"You won't talk to Harry," she began her mandatory check of his pulse and throat where a nasty scar visibly screamed back at her. "Perhaps I can persuade you to talk to me."

"And what makes you think I'd tell you anything, Miss Granger?" Gods, did his voice really sound _that_ bad at the moment?

"You're not the only one with skeletons in your closet, Professor. Besides," she held up several new issues of potions articles that he had been itching to read during his tenure as a double agent and headmaster these last two years. "I think I can pay handsomely."

And so began their heated debates well into the following winter and spring. Hermione wanted to earn whatever N.E.W.T.s she'd been denied of while on the run from Voldemort, the resulting effort involving a whole extra year of studious diligence as Hogwarts and staff tried to rebuild the horrors of a brutal battle. Snape himself had finally retired from the educational business, having used whatever money he'd left in his savings to open his own apothecary shop in London. Remedial potions were in high demand these days. A shame really, since the war was over.

From there on, an odd sort of friendship had blossomed between them. Hermione, he grudgingly admitted, had become the one true highlight of his recovery. Snape had already known she was a master student involved with any and every Hogwarts curriculum (save for Divination) but a hellcat on fire once you get her started on arousing debates. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd been swept through such passionate conversations.

She took him walking outside on the school grounds whenever the weather was presentable. Whatever weight he had lost over the years took no effort to gain back where Hermione was concerned, stuffing him full of hearty broths, juices and dairy. Once he had felt strong enough to get back on his feet, she would whisk him away for some fresh air, far from prying eyes and ears as they confided about… anything, really.

"I've got some exciting news to share." They had taken a liking to strolling around the lake arm-in-arm once the awkwardness had faded.

He looked down into her smiling face and briefly wondered if the jump in his heart was a natural reaction as she flashed the back of her hand to him, displaying the thin band full of tiny glittering diamonds.

He smirked, yet deep down inside he felt... hurt. Why? Was it because Hermione Granger would be graduating within a week's time and would never see him again? Or was it something else entirely? "Congratulations."

"You'll be there, won't you? At the wedding?"

The fact that he would have to endure the sight of Ronald bloody Weasley exchanging vows with the woman he only now realized he cared for a great deal was more than he wanted to bear.

But he nodded his head, like any decent friend would, and they continued their walk in silence as they were bathed in the warm afternoon sunlight.

 **~xXx~**

He'd be lying to himself if he said it hadn't hurt.

Hermione Granger, no – Weasley – had looked absolutely breathtaking in her bright wedding dress as she was ushered back down the aisle of the Great Hall by her new charming husband, the smiles they wore only for each other as friends and family alike showered them with rice grains and petals. Poor Filch. Never could get a day's rest from cleaning after something, the old squib.

The reception by the lake was a largely entertaining affair as wine and conversation flowed freely. Hermione had not yet released her new husband's hand as they paraded through the crowd while simultaneously greeting their guests. Snape mostly kept to himself with Flitwick or McGonagall for company. Hero or not, he was still a snarky bastard. It would be a miracle if anyone boosted up enough courage to approach him with ease.

The newlywed couple had the honor of the first dance, of course. Snape couldn't help but notice how at ease and blissful Hermione appeared to be within the security of Weasley's arms as she rested against him, eyes closed, the both of them moving slowly in sync as they allowed their love to enfold them.

He swallowed hard.

Would Hermione ever feel at ease if it was him she was dancing with, and not the weasel?

She kept in touch with him, much to his surprise. Her new flat was nothing more than twenty blocks away from where he acquired his own apothecary shop within the busy streets that was Muggle London. According to Hermione, her husband was trying to land a Keeper's position on the Chudley Cannons Quidditch team, which required serious amounts of training on the field with seasonal players and, unfortunately, less quality time with his wife.

"I don't really mind," she assured him one day, watching as he dumped several lethal ingredients into a large cauldron at the back of his shop. One year had already passed since the wedding, and by then Snape had established a respectable potions business within the city and profited a great deal by it. "They don't pay him well, but he's happy with what he's doing."

She told him of her plans in possibly up-taking a minor position within the Charms Research and Facility Program, but in the end, had changed her mind.

"Why?" he asked as she assisted him in chopping asphodel roots. At twenty-one years old, the time for pursuing a solid career was better now than never.

It had taken quite the convincing on her part to Ronald before the mother of all curve balls caught them both by surprise as Hermione uttered the words that were, to this day, her greatest revelation.

"I'm pregnant."

Several months later, it would be a freak accident involving a fire that would ultimately take her husband away from her.

 **~xXx~**

Molly had been livid, absolutely livid, when Hermione relayed her acceptance of a rather expeditious marriage proposal, from Severus Snape no less. The plump witch's voice practically echoing within the many acres of field that sequestered her little house from the village.

"Have you no shame?" She had raged at the two of them, her fiery eyes flashing to Hermione without batting an eyelash. "Have you no honor and commitment to your husband's memory? I suppose two weeks mourning wasn't satisfactory for the likes of our _precious_ daughter-in-law, eh?"

"Molly," the warning hovered upon Arthur Weasley's tone yet he too looked affronted by what Hermione and Severus planned to do.

"You know why I'm doing this," Hermione softly reasoned with her. "This is a marriage of convenience only, Molly. Nothing more."

Snape winced. To him, this marriage would be more than just some bloody convenience. Hermione Weasley was to become his wife.

 _His wife!_

But Molly wasn't having it. "Your parents would be ashamed of you, Hermione." The words couldn't have been colder than a blizzard. "So ashamed of you."

And with that in mind, Hermione took her leave, a furious Severus following her lead as he shot both the red-heads a contemptuous glare before flooing himself and his fiancee back to her flat.

"Hermione," Severus began as he touched her hand, but she quickly retreated to her bedroom, the door shutting quietly behind her.

John and Jean Granger had been murdered by Death Eaters while she and Harry had been on the hunt for hocruxes.

 **~xXx~**

They were married the following month later, and Hermione successfully completed her third trimester of pregnancy, allieviating Severus's anxiety for complications. Hermione must deliver the child safely. The child who also belonged to Ronald Weasley; her first, and possibly only, lover.

She had refused to take off her original wedding ring, and Severus did not pressure her.

As promised, Severus took care of all her late husband's debts within the second week of their engagement, and while he had fulfilled his end of the deal, Hermione knew that the only way she could ever repay him in kind was to act like the dutiful, supportive wife that he deserved.

Her new home at Spinner's End was, much to her surprise, comfortable and accommodating. The dreadful childhood Severus had endured had been barely tolerable to hear, and yet, as she sat down in front of the modest fireplace, watching as the intimidating man that was her husband drew off his cape and rested it atop his own high chair across from her, she couldn't help but wonder.

How could such a seemingly cruel and uncaring man be so kind and invested into her well-being?

Dressed in his signature black clothing, Severus grasped Hermione's hands within his own larger ones, pulling her up to stand in front of him. The soft glow from the hearth illuminating his sharp features as he gazed down at her with such penetrating eyes that Hermione found it impossible to look away. Shifting her attention down to their hands, she stared at the wedding band that gleamed from his ring finger, and sighed.

"Hermione..."

She closed her eyes, the pain of Ron's passing briefly forgotten as he ran the palms of his hands up her exposed arms, marveling at how wearing a simple sleeveless dress that accommodated her swollen midsection could arouse him still. Tucking a finger underneath her chin, Severus lifted her face to look at him before lowering his head to kiss her.

The feel of his lips upon hers was neither forceful nor aggressive, Hermione noticed. Rather, hesitant and searching as Severus cupped the back of her head gently, encouraging her. They hadn't kissed at the wedding, not in the traditional fashion, anyway. A brief peck on the cheek was all they were required to do since it was the most informal wedding known to the wizarding world, with only the Minister of Magic securing their bond of holy matrimony and an employee of Severus's as a witness. Only now Hermione knew the extent of affection Severus had been denied as he deepened the kiss, eliciting a groan from her as she placed her hands against his chest.

Severus desired her.

But just as quickly as it began it ended, and Severus pulled away from her with a shuddering breath, his eyes darkening with regret. Without a word, he turned and walked away, glancing longingly over his shoulder before closing the door to the sitting room behind him.

The first week of marriage between them was somewhat awkward at times, but never uncomfortable. Hermione fulfilling the role as a housewife without any complaint. Severus left for work every morning at eight o'clock sharp before his wife carried out the standardize cleaning and cooking of their humble abode. Severus made Hermione swore that she wouldn't overexert herself in anything while he was away, much to her amusing chagrin. Regardless of her stubborn nature, she knew when she was pushing her luck. Hermione also made it very clear that they would not be acquiring the aid of a house elf, no matter how convenient.

They occupied the same bedroom and bed. Severus had gone out of his way to prepare the guest bedroom into her own private suite before she moved in, letting her know that she was always welcomed to his quarters if she chose to come. Hermione had been adamant that it was not necessary, stating the obvious fact that they were a married couple now and should act like it.

"If I'm sharing your name then I'm sharing your bed," she affirmed on their wedding night, waiting patiently for him to slide under the covers next to her as she marked her magazine in place before laying it on the nightstand. Hesitant, Severus joined her, wrapping a strong arm around her waist after she extinguished the lamp, grateful that she did not reject his touch, and closed his eyes.

He didn't dare try to consummate their marriage that first night, or the night after that.

 **~xXx~**

Severus was moving between several cauldrons full of restorative potions when a barn owl fly through the window, carrying a note of most importance attached to its scrawny leg.

 _My water just broke. Please come home._

Hastily folding the note, Severus barked at his assistant manager to hold down the shop as he quickly apparated home.

Originally, Hermione had planned to give birth at the Burrow due to it being a Weasley family tradition. Severus insisted otherwise, stating that it would ease his concern for her and the baby's safety if she were under the care of professional medi-witches at St. Mungo's. At this point, Hermione thought, as she paced the small confines of her hospital room in nothing but a hospital gown, she could've cared less where her little one was born. She just wanted a healthy birth and baby.

"But this is the first and last time I'll be doing this," she groaned with a smile, wincing as another painful contraction racked her body. Severus never left her side for an instant, keeping a supportive arm around her waist as they walked in sync together.

In the end her husband couldn't agree more as Hermione's screams echoed throughout the hospital wing as she strained to deliver her child, teeth clenching with determination. Despite what people thought of her charmingly kind nature, Hermione knew every curse word up the river that would make even the proudest of sailors blush.

He had intended to wait outside of the delivery room once the contractions started to get worse, knowing that only the father of Hermione's child should have the privilege of being there. Yet it was he whom his little wife yearned for at her side as she grasped his hand, encouraging him to stay by her side with tear-filled eyes. She was in so much pain! And it was killing him that he could do nothing about it.

"Don't go," she whispered, voice weak with exhaustion, her back propped up against the pillows of her bed.

And so he stayed, his hand never letting go of hers.

Little Rosabelle Jean Weasley was born six pounds, five ounces with a lung capacity that could rival any mandrake as she entered the world screaming, the doctor placing the infant into Hermione's arms. Her mother cuddling her closely against her chest as she rested the baby's skin against her own. It was impossible to hold back the tears.

With the doctor's encouragement, Severus severed the umbilical cord with his wand, watching as the assistant medi-witch took the baby to be cleaned off before swaddling her in a small red blanket. "Congratulations," she smiled at Severus, handing the little one over to him, who in turn, quickly relinquished the now quieting infant back into Hermione's awaiting arms, watching as mother and daughter establish a bond with one another.

In truth, Hermione's one true regret up to this point was that Ron would never get to hold the little miracle they had created out of their love, never get to play and talk with her as she grew up, but now, as she stared down into the light eyes of her baby, she knew that a part of Ron would always be with her, and that he had always been with her even before and after the incident.

Little Rosabelle served as the bridge for that special connection.

"Hey, baby girl," Hermione whispered, her eyes shining as her little one gazed up at her with starry eyes. "Welcome to the real world."

She looked over at Severus, who sat patiently at her side once more, and smiled. "Thank you."

 _For taking care of me. For being there for me._

A gentle kiss to her forehead was his response.

 **~xXx~**

Severus did it all. From cooking and cleaning to changing nappies, he had made it an obligation to help Hermione in whatever way he could as he trimmed the bushes one sunny afternoon, listening to the infant'smell pitiful cries as Hermione tried, in vain, to calm her down.

Rosie had been home for over two months now, and the apothecary shop continued to thrive under Severus's intense business trade despite him currently working from home, at least for Hermione's sake. Raising babies was largely underrated compared to the way they portrayed it in the Muggle movies; Hermione was lucky to get in five hours a night if she could. Rosie's appetite knew no bounds, yet she was so tiny!

Harry and Ginny swung by the hospital shortly after the birth, of course. Regardless of how her parents might have felt about their former daughter-in-law, Ginny loved Hermione like a sister, as did Harry. The both of them cooing over the sleeping infant as Ginny cradled her against her chest. Harry grinned, watching as Rosie grasped his finger in a vice-like grip, her little mouth opened wide as she yawned. "She's absolutely beautiful, Hermione. Ron…" He pushed back the lump that was beginning to form inside his throat. "Ron would be proud."

Would he? Hermione now wondered with a frown. Her ears ringing as the baby continued to wail in her arms as she tried bouncing her up and down while rubbing her back. She had been terribly fussy for the last few days with a fever and Hermione was beginning to feel helpless.

"I'll start dinner in a minute," she told her husband as he stepped inside their parlor. "Once this one calms down a bit."

If possible, Rosie screamed even louder.

Without a word Severus relinquished his gloves and shears before taking the baby from Hermione, holding her at arms-length as he stared down in mock irritation. "Over-exaggerating now, are we?" He pressed her against his shoulder. "Don't worry about dinner and rest," he tells his wife. "I'll take care of Rosie."

Pecking a quick kiss to Hermione's cheek, Severus bounded up the stairs, the baby's cries bouncing off the walls as they vanished out of sight. Once the satisfying close of the nursery door could be heard, Hermione collapsed onto the sofa with loud sigh and closed her eyes.

People could say what they wanted about her insulting bloke of a husband, but Severus was a God-send at times.

Gasping, she awoke, sitting up from her strange position on the sofa. The darkened chill of the living room giving the faint impression that it was almost midnight. Pulling off the blanket (which had not been covering her earlier) she stood up, yawning as she stretched out her arms. Whether by habit or instinct, Hermione knew that Rosie was due for a good feeding right about now as she quietly walked up the stairs, pausing as she approached the door to the nursery.

Was that… singing she heard?

Peaking between the six-inch slit of the open door and doorframe, she watched, transfixed as Severus slowly walked around the room, with little Rosie lying contentedly in his arms as she sucked on a bottle full of something that definitely wasn't breast milk, her blue eyes fixed upon the man who sang to her in a low, baritone voice. His dark eyes were gazing down at the baby with such a fierce gentleness that Hermione closed her mouth and willed herself to calm down as she breathed through her nose.

"Slowly, Little Siren," Severus quietly encouraged, sitting down in the rocking chair next to the changing table. "Took me a week to brew this medicine, but it should be able to help you feel and sleep better now. Good girl, slowly now."

He gently positioned the baby into a vertical position as he cradled the back of her head with his left hand while feeding her with the other. "That's it, almost there. Papa's got you. Papa loves you." He sat the bottle aside once she'd finish, nuzzling her with his hawkish nose and loving the infant smell of her. "Papa will always be here to take care of you and your mother."

He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, and Hermione felt the insides of her stomach clench at the sight. "And someday, Little Siren," Severus continued in a secretive tone. "I'm going to tell you all about how I fell in love with her." Hermione's heart lurched inside her chest. "I wish I could just tell her," he continued in a quiet voice. "Tell her how I truly feel, but I'm no good with words, so I try to show it with little actions, hoping that maybe, just maybe, she'll come to return my affections. If not…"

He paused, and Hermione waited with abated breath, watching as he positioned Rosie comfortably against his shoulder so that he could burp her. "It still won't change how I feel. I will love her until the day I die – always."

Severis hugged the little one close, and Hermione felt her raging emotions spiraling out of control within her. Did her husband really mean what he said? She carefully pulled away from the door and headed back downstairs, pondering.

 **~xXx~**

She had been lying in bed when he came inside their bedroom, listening as he perused around in his usual nighttime ritual of heading inside the bathroom to change his clothes and brush his teeth. Save for the faint moonlight shining through their window it was pitch black, and Hermione wanted to give off the impression that she was indeed fast asleep when her husband slid into bed next to her, her back facing him.

Severus sighed deeply, and Hermione swallowed her pride before turning over to face him, catching his attention. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?" He sounded a tiny bit regretful. "Are you thirsty? Shall a fetch you a cup of water?"

At Hermione's continuing silent treatment he sat up, looking down at her through his large nose as his eyebrows furrowed together with worry. "Hermione, what's wrong?"

She reached up a hand in response, her fingers caressing his nose and mouth as he stiffened beside her. "Nothing," she answered, arising into a kneeling position, and Severus felt his breath catch as the moon illuminated the outline of her naked body to him. "Absolutely nothing."

Holy mother of God.

Gently grasping the sides of his face, Hermione pressed her lips against his, pushing her tongue into his mouth. He cupped the back of her head, deepening the kiss. A moan of exhilaration escaping her.

A hunger unlike any other overcame Severus as he threw off the covers and rolled Hermione underneath him, grinding his cladded hips against hers as he ran his hands all over her body, and her breasts – sweet Circe, her breasts…

Sighing contently, Hermione relished the feeling of his sensuous lips upon her skin as he sucked on her neck. It had been so long since she'd felt this way with anyone that she was almost sorry for not bequeathing Severus this special privilege sooner. "Yes." She ran the palm of her hands across his back. This man who deserved so much and more for all he'd done for the Greater Good. _"Yes!"_

After spending a fair amount of attention to her chest and stomach, Severus forced himself away long enough to discard his pants, his eyes feasting upon her womanhood like a man starved. Lowering his head, he began servicing her with his mouth, relishing the feel of her nails caressing his long tresses.

"Severus…"

He looked up, and her eyes shined with an unnamed emotion.

"Please."

Biting his lower lip, he stretched up and kissed her, their fingers interlocking together as she rested them on either side of her head. Not wanting to lose another second he thrusted into her warmth, fueled by the words he so longingly wanted to hear from the moment he exchanged vows with this brilliant, beautiful witch as he groaned brokenly, moving in a tantalizing rhythm within her.

Severus Snape was indeed in love with his wife.

And he planned on showing her just how much for the rest of the night.

 **~xXx~**

 **One more chapter, folks!**

 **Constructive criticism is always appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Harry Potter.**

 **~xXx~**

With a quiet gasp, Hermione awoke lying prostrate on the smooth mattress beneath her, the warmth of the morning sunlight haloing around her exposed skin. By the gods, she hadn't felt this relaxed since…

Realization dawned hard on her as she quickly pushed herself up, her thick mane of curls cascading down her back and shoulders. For the first time in months, she hadn't dreamt of Ronald, that she had finally consummated the marriage with –

"Severus," Hermione glanced over her shoulder, brown eyes watching as the imposing man who was her husband slept deeply away in slumber. His bare chest rising and falling with each deep intake and outtake of breath.

So it hadn't been a dream.

She smiled, groaning softly as she rolled her stiff body over to face him.

Good grief, how long exactly _had_ she been abstinent from sex?

Reaching out a tentative hand, she caressed the silky locks that partially covered the left side of his prominent features. Severus had been an absolutely amazing lover last night. The way his gentle caresses and powerful strokes sent a delicious shiver through her limbs made Hermione desire this enigma of a man all the more as she leaned down to kiss him, startled out of her mind when he returned the favor. She quickly pulled away, watching as his twinkling eyes stared back at her with amusement.

"Good morning, wife," purred a quiet Severus, a predatory smile flickering across his dour countenance.

Hermione gulped. Whether he knew or not, Severus's possession of a voice that surely would've been illegal to a convent greatly aroused her at times. Especially when husky from a goodnight's rest devoid of hungry, screaming babies. "Good morning… husband."

Grasping the back of her neck, he began devouring her mouth like a man starved once again, her stifled moans of exhilaration encouraging him all the more as she pulled him over her, her body screaming to be once again pleasured as he trailed sensuous kisses down her throat and chest, inching closer to the prize…

A sharp cry pierced the morning calm and the couple stiffened, with Severus groaning in agitated defeat, his face hanging in resignation. Hermione chuckled. "Breakfast time!"

She beamed at him with a quick kiss, and he smirked, rolling his long body off of her as she stood up to retrieve her robe from the closet. Hermione graced him with a sly smile, tying the sash tightly around her waist. "But don't worry," her eyes lingered on the prominent erection hidden beneath the covers. "I shan't be too long."

"See that you don't," growled back her husband, and she laughed lightly, shaking her head in amusement as she closed the door behind her while coming to terms with the fact that her marriage had just been taken to a whole new 'other level.

And not once did she regret it.

 **~xXx~**

 _Five years later…_

"I swear," Hermione fumed to herself, gathering whatever papers she needed off her desk and shoving them into her briefcase, "they'll just hire anyone these days to do the job!"

Clutching the bag under her arm, she headed for the public floo network a few stories below. One of the cons about her job as a Charms Researcher was that the company she worked for had a "no apparation policy" within the building, but if preferred, the employees could always walk to and from the nearest apparation point – that was thirty-five blocks away. Seriously?

Shifting her briefcase to the other arm, she grabbed a handful of floo powder while stepping into the fireplace. "Spinner's End, Snape Residence!"

Green flames erupted around her for about three seconds before dissolving, and Hermione walked out into the familiar living room of her abode, smiling as two small arms latched themselves tightly around her waist. "Hello, baby."

"Mama!" A round face crowned with beautiful red curls beamed up at her in excitement. "You're late!"

"Oh?" She looked up, watching as Severus entered the parlor from their little kitchen. She smiled down at her little girl. "Late for what?" She didn't remember making any special plans for the evening as she brought up her wristwatch, and gasped. It was almost ten o'clock at night!

"Bed time!" Severus announced, reading his wife's expression with ease as he stood behind Rosie, who began whining in protest. "As promised, you got to stay up until your mother came home," he placed his large hands on her small shoulders, "now say goodnight."

Knowing better than to disobey her Papa, she let her mother pull her in for a hug and kiss. "Night, Mama," she groused.

"Night, sweetheart." Hermione watched as her husband led her daughter up the stairs to her bedroom, and sighed tiredly. A sixteen hour shift at work. No wonder she was so exhausted!

Tossing her briefcase onto the nearest settee, she walked into the kitchen, and balked.

Dozens of candles hovered in the darkness of the sparse room as several of them parted aside let her in. A large white square cake occupying the center of their kitchen table. With horror, Hermione covered her mouth. No, it wasn't her birthday, or her daughter's, or Severus's.

 _It's our anniversary…._

"Oh, my God!" She whirled at the feel of a strong arm sliding around her shoulders. "Our anniversary, it's tonight! I'm so sorry, I – "

Severus waved a hand. "Don't apologize, you've been so busy with your work."

But Hermione wasn't having it. "I'll make it up to you, I swear."

"Oh?" A dark brow arched in amusement. "You promise?"

Smiling, she reached up and kissed him.

 _I promise._

 **~xXx~**

In the five years following their marriage, Hermione had always made it an obligation to please her husband, most especially on the cold nights of their anniversaries.

So you can imagine how funny it was to Severus that she passed out the moment her head hit the pillow after enjoying their little cake and conversation while celebrating their fifth year as a married couple.

"I was more out of it than I thought," she told him the following night, leaning back against his chest as they lounged together on the sofa in front of the fireplace, a bottle of champagne split between them. "I really am sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Hermione," Severus ran his fingers through her unruly curls, her head resting atop his covered bicep. He took another sip of his drink. "We both have demanding careers. However, it's never too late for…"

His voice trailed off, as if second-guessing to finish the sentence.

"For what?" Hermione wondered. When her husband didn't reply, she sat up and faced him. "It's never too late for what, Severus?"

He had been a little withdrawn from her these last few months, but being the busy bee that she was, Hermione brushed it off as nothing more than her overworked imagination. She needed this job, because personally, she loved her work, and she was excellent at her job. Earning extra income was an added plus, regardless of Severus's expanding job in running his own successful potions business.

Again, he hesitated to answer, and then – "I just thought we'd be…" he swallowed, "pregnant by now."

So it hadn't been her overworked imagination.

Sighing, Hermione closed her eyes. Her first pregnancy with Rosie hadn't been planned and, personally, she didn't think she'd ever want to have any more children after that. Ron had been convinced that he could change her mind about having a whole houseful of Weasley children, but Hermione had been adamant. One hyperactive child was enough. Severus had evened agreed with her. Why the sudden change of heart was anyone's guess. Aside from Rosie, he seemed to despise children.

"I… I don't know, Severus." She looked away. "I mean, having more children might not be ideal at the moment – "

"But when will it ever be?" Her husband countered. "You obviously want another one."

"I said no such thing!"

"You didn't have to. I see it in your eyes whenever they catch other couples cuddling their little ones close." His eyes softened. "Hermione, love, there's nothing wrong with wanting another baby."

No, there wasn't, but that wasn't the point.

"Severus," she set her glass down on the coffee table in front of them. "If this is about securing your bloodline…"

His face twisted in irritation. "Why the devil would that concern me?"

"Since you're the only living heir to your heritage!"

"I have never expressed that as an issue."

"There's always a first to something."

"Hermione," sitting up, he grabbed her hand between his much larger ones. "Don't you see? Use that brilliant gift of yours you call a mind and think. I _want_ to have a baby with you. I've wanted nothing more since the day we sealed our vows in holy matrimony."

He pulled her hand up to his lips. "But I can't make you change your mind."

Without another word, he stood and exited the sitting room, the sound of crackling flames and firewood echoing loudly in Hermione's ears. In that moment, she had never felt more conflicted.

In that moment, she had never felt more alone.

 **~xXx~**

She grasped both sides of the sink for support, staring hard at herself in the mirror.

It was now or never.

Expelling a shaky breath, she picked up her wand and pressed the tip of it against her lower abdomen. Hand shaking, she whispered a spell, feeling the inside of her stomach churn with warmth before slowly ceasing into coldness. Hermione gasped.

She was no longer protected by a contraceptive.

Covering her mouth with both hands, she sank down onto the toilet seat, and wept. Oh, why must this be so hard! Married women with secured jobs and husbands should be overjoyed at the concept of procreation, not the other way around, especially where true love was concerned. Once upon a time, Hermione swore that she would only love one man in her life, and that man had been Ronald Weasley. The first person who had claimed her virginity and her heart.

So why did this feel like such a betrayal to her deceased love?

Ginny had even asked asked her the same question morning while visiting her friend. " _Why only now do you feel like you're betraying Ron? You didn't feel guilty after doing the funky-monkey the first time around with Snape. You said so yourself. So why the sudden change of heart?"_

But Hermione already knew the answer to that.

" _It's because you love him."_

She pressed her forehead against her folded fingers, swallowing back another sob that threatened to undo her. It was true. Hermione had irrevocably fallen in love with Severus. And that's what really scared her. Not the thought of having a child with him, but that her heart had made enough room for him to vacant it. He was a good provider, a good husband, and a good father-figure, and now she had to be honest with herself.

Would it kill her to give Snape a baby?

No, she decided. It would not.

So why was she so afraid? Ron and her had created their daughter out of love from the beginning, and Severus seemed even more interested in having a child of his own regardless of its gender. And he loved her. Of that, she was absolutely certain.

Standing up once more, she looked at herself in the mirror. God, she was pathetic sometimes. "I love Ronald," she told her solemn reflection. "I always will."

She opened the cabinet door, pulling her reflection away from her and took out a small box from the second shelf. Lifting her free hand, she pulled off both Ron's wedding and engagement ring to her before setting them both aside on the sink. Opening the box, she pulled out another ring, one that nestled a gorgeous garnet stone surrounded by several tiny diamonds.

Severus's engagement ring to her.

Closing her fist around it, she shut the cabinet closed. "But Ronald's not here."

Slipping the ring onto her finger, which fitted perfectly, she exited the bathroom.

 **~xXx~**

Not once, in all the years they've been acquainted with each other, had Severus ever hinted or expressed a passionate interest in art. So you can imagine the look of amazement Hermione had worn that first time she'd entered his rather spacious office; an office, she'd assumed, that would be full of potion ingredients and books, but rather, was stuffed full of painted and unpainted canvases, art magazines, and small clay sculptures.

"It's only a hobby," Severus's cheeks had turned a slight shade of pink as he leaned against the newspaper-covered desk. "One that I enjoy more than brewing. Helps me forget, you see."

Hermione found it absolutely astounding instead of hilarious as she watched him pick up around his office space, which is exactly where she currently found him perusing as he worked meticulously away at a clay-face sculpture.

 _Her clay-face sculpture._

Licking the pad of his thumb, Severus angled the piece to face him before running said appendage under one of the eyes that reflected the countenance of his inspiration.

"You're sexy when you work."

Startled, Severus looked up to his right, his hands gently positioned onto the sculpture's frame. There standing in the doorway, was his beautiful wife, a luminous white-silk bathrobe accentuating her slender frame. Giving him a coy smile, she quietly closed the door. With a hooded gaze, he straightened his back.

Sauntering around the desk, Hermione ran her hand across the smoothed polished surface that wasn't covered in newspapers before coming face to face with her husband. He caught sight of the ring on her hand as she pulled down the front zipper of his stained black coveralls, and inhaled sharply through his nose. His eyes searched hers with anxiety. Swallowing hard, she nodded.

 _Ronald is gone._

Grasping his face with both hands, she pulled him down to capture his lips.

 _But you are here._

Once their clothes had been shed, Severus lowered Hermione onto the wooden floor beneath her, having made sure that his coveralls cushioned her back as he ravished her body and mouth.

 _And I love you._

Breaths mingling, he ran a hand through her glorious tresses, their eyes locking intently on one another, and entered her.

 _I love you._

Gasping, Hermione wrapped her arms around the back of his own for support, Severus sucking on her neck as he created a gentle rhythm within while rocking against her.

 _I love you!_

With a silent scream, she pulsed around him, eyes tightly shut as she felt his own release follow her into bliss. Expelling a ragged sigh, Severus dropped his head in exhaustion, mindful not to crush his body atop of her, and smiled, his damp hair curtaining around his angular face.

"I love you, too." he whispered.

 **~xXx~**

 **I lied. We still have one more chapter to go.**

 **And if you think Snape is acting like a big 'ole softy in this story, then too bad. I've always adored the way he was portrayed in both the movies and books, but personally, he was such a love towards Lily from the Deathly Hallows novel that he borderline worshiped and adored her. I'm basically reflecting his feelings to Hermione.**

 **Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.**


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Harry Potter.**

 **~xXx~**

Hermione had been in the middle of scrambling a healthy batch of eggs when the shouting match started, making her sigh with irritation. Turning off the stove, she set the pan aside. Damn it. Couldn't they get through at least one morning without arguing? Judging by the sound of her furious daughter's voice and threats, apparently not.

"Honestly, Sev, he was right here! _Right here_ where I left him, in his cage, before I went to bed last night! So why the hell is he gone?"

"I dunno, Rosie! He's _your_ bird!"

More yelling and cursing ensued, and just when Hermione had had enough of their antics, two strong arms encircled her from behind, pulling her close into an even stronger chest. "Husband," she greeted.

"Wife." Lips of the utmost sensuous kind trailed down a series of delightful kisses from her neck to shoulder, and Hermione smiled. If there was one person who didn't drive her beyond breaking point of insanity (not as close to, anyway) it was her husband. "I sense a great deal of disturbance within you. Care to share why?"

Judging by the amused tone of his voice and echoing shouts of the children, Hermione could only assume he knew that answer to that, but wanted to hear her voice it nonetheless.

"Archimedes has gone missing again, apparently."

"Mmmm."

"Not even one hour into starting the day…. Honestly, Severus, where did we go wrong into raising them to be civilized towards one another?"

"No such thing has ever been achieved between siblings."

She sighed, long and deep. "I wouldn't know."

"Neither would I." Slowly, he slid the palm of his hands up and down her arms. "However," he kissed the ticklish spot behind her ear, making her giggle. "It's not always bad – given the years we've already spent upbringing those two misbegotten heathens we dare call our children."

Hermione laughed, turning around so that she could face him. "I know." She slid her arms around his neck. "I just didn't want _those_ misbegotten heathens. Had I a choice in the matter…"

Her husband chuckled. "You wouldn't have them any other way, Hermione."

Smiling, she reached up and kissed him.

Footsteps echoed off the wall as Rosie came thundering down the stairs and into the kitchen, her brother following closely behind her. Upon catching her parents in a rather intimate act, she scowled. "Seriously, is it that hard for you two to get a room?"

Hermione glared at her impudent child. On second thought…

"Mind your attitude, young lady." Severus scolded her, his voice deep with disapproval.

"Sorry," mumbled Rosie grudgingly. She slid into her chair, pouring herself a glass of juice. Sev did the same, smiling sheepishly at his parents.

"Hmmph." Reaching over his wife, Severus lifted the pan and ushered her towards the dining table. He pulled out her chair for her. "You two should already know better than to start such racket this early in the morning," he informed them, scraping off decent amounts of eggs on each of their plates with a spatula before setting the pan back down on the stove. Seating himself at the head of the table, Severus picked up his utensils. "Now tell me," he glanced between the two of them. "What's the situation?"

Hermione listened with bemused interest as both her children launched into their own variation of this morning's predicament.

"He's gone, Dad." explained Rosie, her voice broken and strained. "I know I left him in the cage before going to bed, but he was gone when I woke up. I don't know where he is!"

"And then she comes barreling into my room yelling at the top of her lungs!" Sev piped in. "Accusing me of stealing her stupid owl!"

"You've done it before without my permission!"

"Seriously, knock before you enter!"

Raising a hand, Severus managed to quiet his children before things got out of control. "You've nothing to fear," he told Rosie, placing a forkful of eggs in his mouth. "I happen to know for a fact that Archimedes is well and unharmed."

"Truly?" Hope bubbled within Rosie's chest. Sev continued to glare at her.

Severus nodded. "In fact…" he looked over their heads, watching as a beautiful tawny owl came flying through the kitchen window clutching a large package. It soared over their heads dramatically before landing on Rosie's shoulder.

"Archimedes!" Rosie smiled.

Severus calmly relinquished the heavy parcel from the bird. "My thanks," he said.

Archimedes preened with pride.

Realization dawned on Rosie after a few minutes of compatible silence. "Wait a minute," she looked at her father, who was busily approving several new copies of _Transfigurations Today_ and _Potions Weekly_. "You sent Archimedes away for a retrieve?" When she didn't get a response, she huffed. "Well, thanks for asking me if you could borrow him!"

Hermione bristled at her daughter's tone. At seventeen, Rosie was starting to become quite the rebellious, if interesting, character.

"I need not explain nor ask your permission in using Archimedes, Rosie." After handing over a couple magazines to Hermione, Severus placed the package down onto the floor.

"He's _my_ owl!"

"And who purchased him for you?"

Rosie's mouth closed just as quickly as it had opened.

"You're lucky you even have an owl," Sev told her, spreading marmalade all over his second piece of toast. "I'll probably be the only first year in Hogwarts without a familiar."

"You know the deal, Sev." Hermione chewed on her food. "Show us that you can earn good grades, and maybe, just maybe, we'll get you your own owl next year."

"As if." remarked Rosie, relinquishing her piece of toast over to Archimedes, who trilled in delight.

"Screw you." Sev mumbled into his cup.

"Language." Severus warned, though his eyes remained solely glued upon this morning's paper.

"Sorry, Dad."

 **~xXx~**

 _Eleven years ago…._

Hermione had just exited the bathroom when she heard the familiar pleasant sound of her daughter's tinkling laughter, and smiled. Severus was an excellent master in bedtime stories, and he never even used children's books.

Slipping quietly into her room, she approached the bassinet that rested at the foot of their bed, smiling down at the newest member of their family who occupied it: Severin John Snape. Born eight pounds, twelve ounces.

Unable to resist, she reached in a hand, her fingers gently caressing the thick dark locks across his forehead. He squirmed, but remained fast asleep. She touched his hand, his little fingers curling into a fist around her much bigger one.

He was so tiny, yet so very precious.

And so very much loved by his family.

Approaching her daughter's door, which was slightly open, Hermione raised her hand, preparing to knock.

"Are you my real father. Papa?"

Hermione hesitated, as did Severus.

"Why do you ask, my Siren?"

"Mama says that a baby's hair color is a reflection of either his or her mama's or papa's hair color, but you and Sev don't have red hair, and mama doesn't have red hair, so why do I?"

Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. Rosie, in all her six years, had never once questioned about her parentage, having very early on regarding Severus as her father from the get go. To hear her daughter second-guessing such belief disturbingly astonished her.

Wanting to alleviate whatever awkward position this was sure to put Severus in, Hermione quickly stepped inside. "Bed time!" she announced, her heart breaking at the sight of her daughter sitting so trustingly on her husband's lap, his large hand wrapped tightly around her mid-riff in support as he held her against his chest. "Come on, kitten, it's late, and Papa needs to rest so that he can get up bright and early tomorrow morning."

With a groan, Rosie slid out of her husband's lap and into her bed. Hermione tucked her in, ignoring Severus's hard, convicting stare. Try as she might, she couldn't deny the truth from Rosie for long.

It was now or never.

"Rosie," she lowered herself down onto the bed. Oh, Merlin. Where to even begin? "Before you were born, Mama was married to another man, who was nothing like your Papa." She smiled. Severus smirked. "His name was Ronald Weasley. He was young, an extraordinary quidditch player, and very scruffy, with thick red hair." Using both hands, she ruffled her own wild brown curls. Rosie giggled. "And Mama was very much in love with him. This man…" she swallowed thickly, "this man died in a terrible accident, and Mama was devastated with grief for many months, but he left me a gift, a part of himself for me to carry – you."

Rosie remained rigid with rapt attention.

"It's you, Rosie." Hermione affirmed, grasping her daughter's hand which rested across her tiny blanket-covered abdomen. "You're his daughter. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

"No."

Hermione tensed, as did Severus. "No, you don't understand, or…?"

"He's not my father."

"Rosie…"

"No!" The girl shook her head vehemently and repeated herself once more. "He's not my father! Papa is!"

"Rosie," Severus began gently. "You are too smart for your own good not to recognize the truth, but your mother is right. I'm not your real father."

"I don't care!" Rosie yelled, sitting up. "Papas are there for their little girls every day and night. Papas play with them when they are excited, sing to them when they are feeling sick, hug them when they are feeling sad, and kiss them because they are loved!" Thick tears were beginning to form in the child's eyes as she spoke with passionate abandonment. "That man is not my Papa, Mama." She looked at Severus. "He is."

Throat constricting, Severus stood up from his chair. "It's late," he spoke thickly, and placing a comforting hand on Rosie's head, leaned down to kiss her. "Goodnight, little one. Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight, Papa." Rosie swiftly wrapped her little arms around Severus's neck, hugging him close. He did the same, his forearm strong yet so very gentle as it carefully supported the little body against him. "I love you," she whispered into his ear after pulling back, and Hermione thought her heart would burst at the seams any moment.

"And I love you." With a small, tender smile, Severus released her. "Always and forever."

"Until next time, Papa?"

Standing, the former Potions Master held out a hand to his wife who, after quickly kissing her daughter, allowed herself to be pulled up to her feet. "Until next time, Little Siren."

Hand in hand, the couple turned off the lights and made for their bedroom. "Thank you." Hermione snuggled into him close.

"For what?"

She smiled up at him. "For being you."

 **~xXx~**

 _Present day…._

King's Cross Station as usual was packed with Muggles and wizards alike, and Hermione had half a good mind to start shoving stragglers aside as she quickly ushered her children through Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

"Come, come children!" With a hand on each of their backs, she guided them towards the nearest baggage handler she could find. Once settling their carts and luggage over to be taken care of did she finally step back to acknowledge her children. Her two, sweet babies. One graduating, and one starting. She tried not to cry, pulling them both into a bone-crushing hug.

"Mum!" Severin began complaining. Honestly, did she really have to pull him around the neck like that?

Smiling, Hermione released them. "Sorry." She ruffled her son's messy hair. He scowled even deeper. "It's just…" she looked between the two of them. "You'll always be my babies. Especially you, Sev, even though you're starting Hogwarts and all…"

A strong hand came to rest atop her shoulder, pulling her in and holding her close. "What your mother is trying to say..." Severus began, his eyes gleaming at both of his children. Yes, they were his children. _His_. He raised them, provided for them, disciplined them, and loved them with a fierce passion. "Is that she'll be missing you two ruffians. Now," he gave them a serious look. "Behave, and study hard. No funny business," his eyes lingered on Rosie. "I mean it, the both of you."

"Of course." Brother and sister glanced at each other.

The train whistled to life, and Rosie, not wanting to miss their ride, threw herself into Severus's arms. "Bye, Dad." After planting a quick kiss onto his cheek, she released him.

"Good bye, Little Siren."

Rosie rolled her eyes. "I'm seventeen, Dad. Hardly little anymore."

"You will always be my little girl."

"Whatever." Raising an eyebrow, she smirked. "Until next time, Papa?"

Returning her little smile, Severus nodded. "Until next time, Little Siren."

He turned his attention towards Severin. "Make us proud."

"I will, Dad."

"And no matter what House you find yourself Sorted in, Hogwarts still will have gained a fine young wizard." His eyes shone with pride as he gazed down at his only heir and son.

"Thanks, Dad."

"And you'll keep an eye out for your sister, won't you?"

"Two eyes." Sev promised.

"Good lad." Holding his hand out, Severus grasped his boy's hand in a firm grip, shaking it. "Take care of yourself, son."

"You too, Dad."

"Let's go, Sev!" After hugging their mother good bye, Rosie quickly departed towards the closest compartment.

Unable to resist, Hermione pulled Severin close for one final embrace. "My son…" she ran her fingers through his silky dark tresses. "My beautiful son…"

" _Mum!"_

" _Come on, Sev!"_

Breaking away from his mother, Severin rushed towards his awaiting sister, the both of them disappearing from sight in a matter of seconds. For the longest time husband and wife stood there amongst the throngs of other families, a calm sense of completion washing over them.

"You didn't tell them."

Severus glanced down at his wife, a devious gleam twinkling within his eyes. "Tell them what? That I'm spending a semester as the Hogwarts Potions Master this fall, or that you're expecting again?"

Hermione smiled, her arm wrapping around his much longer one. "Both."

"They'll be upset, no doubt."

"Let them be." She rested the side of her head against his arm. "They could use a good scare and embarrassment."

Smirking, Severus reached into his long coat's pocket and pulled out his pocket watch. Two minutes before the train's departure. "Shall we stay, or shall we go?"

Hermione gave him a questioning look.

"I have exactly seven hours before I'm expected at Hogwarts, and with no children looming around in all corners of the house…." He raised an eyebrow.

Hermione laughed. "Then by all means, husband." She wiggled her eyebrows at him. "It's been far too long. Perhaps a bit of role-play is in order?"

"Absolutely. Our theme?"

"Howabout…. oversexed Hogwarts school girl having the hots for her nymphomaniac of a Potions teacher who will use every method he can to screw her senseless?"

"My, my." Severus held his wife closer to his chest, the tips of his fingers brushing under the tender flesh of her covered bosoms. Hermione held back a groan. "A nymphomaniac, am I? Well then…" he nuzzled his nose against her neck. "I wouldn't want to disappoint."

And with his arms securely wrapped around his wife, Severus quickly apparated them back to their home.

 **~xXx~**

 **And we're finished! I apologize to you folks who were confused about where this story stood, completion wise. It was originally intended to be a very long one-shot, but I found neither the strength nor the time to make it happen, hence this short little story.**

 **Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated and nourishment for my soul.**

 **Thank you for reading!**


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